A month and a half passed—nearly two full months since Aoyama Akira first began training at Seaside Park. For those two months, he woke early and went to bed late every single day, maintaining a relentless training schedule.
However, reality quickly caught up with him.
Money.
Because of financial pressure, Akira had no choice but to start looking for a part-time job to support himself.
Two months of hard training had drastically improved his physical condition. At this point, he was finally qualified to begin systematic Quirk training alongside physical conditioning. With eight months still remaining before U.A. High School's entrance exam, training both in parallel should be more than enough.
That day, Akira browsed online listings for part-time jobs and stumbled upon a strange-looking posting nearby.
The shop's name was "Broken House."
The job description read:
No matter what problem you have, Broken House can help you solve it.If we can't solve it, then you're on your own.
"…What kind of nonsense description is that?" Akira chuckled, shaking his head.
Still, the pay caught his attention—¥70,000 per month for part-time work.
That wasn't bad at all.
In fact, it barely differed from some full-time positions.
Akira decided to check it out in person. The shop gave him strong odd-jobs vibes—almost like something straight out of Gintama. Whether it was legit or not would depend on the actual situation.
After breakfast, Akira headed out while the morning sun was still warm. He put on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and locked the door.
The Broken House was less than a kilometer away. After walking for under ten minutes, he arrived at its entrance.
The place truly lived up to its name.
The signboard reading "Broken House" was faded and peeling, as if it hadn't been replaced in over a decade. The metal shutter was pulled down, covered in dust and graffiti—clearly the work of mischievous neighborhood kids.
The shop sat in a narrow alley. A utility pole stood right by the entrance, and an unpleasant smell lingered underneath it.
Someone had definitely claimed that spot far too often.
Spray-painted across the middle of the shutter were two large black characters:
RECRUITING
They looked like they had been there for quite some time.
Apparently, no one had been eager to apply.
Akira felt a flicker of doubt. This place was clearly unmanaged. Judging from the condition alone, the owner was probably extremely lazy.
Still, since he was already here, he decided to at least see what was going on.
Akira stepped forward and knocked on the shutter.
No response.
After a few minutes, he knocked again—this time harder and for longer.
"Who is it?! It's way too early for this noise!"
An irritated voice came from inside.
A moment later, the shutter rattled upward.
A silver-haired man stood there, a toothpick hanging lazily from his mouth. He squinted at Akira with sleepy eyes.
"…Huh? You're not one of those brat kids?"
Once he realized Akira wasn't a troublemaking child, his tone softened slightly.
Those "brats," as he called them, were kids under ten who loved scribbling graffiti on his shutter—and worse, relieving themselves under the utility pole. The smell alone was enough to ruin anyone's day.
Silver hair…
Akira blinked. Was this really the owner?
The man looked oddly familiar—like a manga character—but noticeably more worn-down and decadent.
"Are you the owner of Broken House?" Akira asked, pinching his nose as the smell drifted over.
"Yeah. Come in. Let's talk," the man said casually, pulling the shutter back down once Akira stepped inside.
The interior was dim. After switching on the light, Akira finally saw the full state of the place.
Calling it an office would be generous.
It was cluttered, chaotic, and looked more like someone's private hideout than a workplace.
"Heh, don't mind the mess," the silver-haired man said lazily. Then he asked, though he already knew the answer, "So—what brings you here?"
Akira nodded. "I saw your recruitment post online. I wanted to ask if I could apply."
"Sure," the man replied instantly. His eyes lit up with visible excitement. "You can start tomorrow."
Akira should have been happy.
Instead, watching the man's reaction made his instincts scream danger.
"…This won't turn out to be some kind of trap, will it?" he thought.
"Oh, right. I forgot to introduce myself," the man added. "Name's Usagi Gin. Just call me Gin-san. I'll pay you ¥70,000 a month. Cash. No deductions."
The number wasn't bad for part-time work.
Still, Akira couldn't shake the feeling that stepping into this place was like walking straight into a wolf's den.
Seeing his hesitation, Gin-san raised a finger.
"Three meals a day. All included."
"Deal," Akira said instantly.
He didn't even stop to think.
In most workplaces, getting two meals covered was already generous. Three meals was practically unheard of.
Some places only covered lunch.
Right now, Akira couldn't afford to be picky.
"Report at eight tomorrow morning," Gin-san said with a yawn. "I'm going back to sleep. You can head out."
Akira thanked him and left.
He knew this place probably came with problems—but his cash reserves would only last another three or four days at most. After that, hunger would become a real issue.
With meals included, refusing this job would be idiotic.
After Akira left, Gin-san grinned slyly.
"Man, applicants are rare these days. Gotta use a few tricks to keep one around."
Stretching lazily, he plopped into his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. He pulled out his phone and made a call.
"Hey, boss. Yeah, it's me. Starting tomorrow, I've got an employee. Three meals a day—deliver monthly. One meat dish, two vegetables. Don't overdo it."
A voice replied from the other end. "Congrats, then. I'll start delivery tomorrow. But listen—you really should be more generous this time. You've already cut portions three times. At this rate, it won't last."
"Just focus on cooking," Gin-san snapped. "If I wanted to pay salaries, I'd hire you. Three meals are enough. I don't need mountains of meat."
"…Fine. I'll deliver on time," the man said irritably before hanging up.
He hadn't expected Gin-san to actually include three meals for an employee this time. No wonder he wanted to cut down on the meat.
After all, Broken House hadn't been doing well for a long time.
And most importantly—
Gin-san was lazy.
He never cleaned the shop.
Who in their right mind would want to work in a place this messy?